Through a Glass, Darkly
by dnachemlia
Summary: Set in season 4 to start, AU. A terrorist attack has long-term effects on Gibbs' team.
1. Prologue

**Title**: Through a Glass, Darkly

**Category**: NCIS (idea crossover with a book)

**Rating**: T/PG-13 for violence and depictions of gore (Gen)

Set in early season 4, before "Twisted Sister", AU from there

**Disclaimer**: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda

**Summary**: A terrorist attack has long-term effects on Gibbs' team.

_**

* * *

Prologue**_

Dan Simmons pushed the door handle and absently nodded at the pair of passengers as they boarded the Metro bus, swiped their fare cards and took the last unoccupied seat directly behind the driver. They were two of his normal customers; a petite Asian woman in her late teens with a heavily laden backpack and a tall white man in his late twenties, dressed in a suit and tie and carrying a black shoulder bag. Simmons had been picking both of them up at this spot for well over a year, ever since he had taken over this particular early morning express route.

Simmons pulled the handle to close the doors and eased the bus away from the curve, heading towards the exit that would take him to the inner loop of the Beltway. After he had navigated the exit ramp and merge lane, he glanced into his rear view mirror and smiled; same routine, different day. Even the passengers were engaged in a seemingly set ritual, varied only by their individual personalities: reading, texting, watching the other passengers with amusement or annoyance, or merely staring off into space, with his last two passengers engaged in the latter. Dan felt a sense of comfort from the scene on his bus as he counted down the days until his retirement, when he could adopt a whole new routine, hopefully minus the traffic and diesel fumes he encountered in this one.

He pressed down on the gas pedal and felt the bus surge forward as he tried to keep up with the pace of the other cars. Suddenly he felt a jolt, as if something had caught the rear bumper of the bus, and a cacophony of sound exploded behind him. The screams of his passengers assaulted his ears as he fought to maintain control of the steering wheel, but his faithful companion had suddenly developed a mind of its own and the bus lurched sickeningly to the right. The screams grew louder as the side of the bus hit the concrete of the highway and its momentum carried it into a slow sliding roll. Simmons was peripherally away of the sounds of bodies being slammed around behind him and the wet thuds as they made contact with the interior of the bus caused his stomach to lurch. He felt his seatbelt painfully cut into him as the bus flipped over, slamming him into the side window. He felt one last flood of agony before his head met the glass with a sickening crunch and darkness overwhelmed him.

XXXXX

Tony DiNozzo exited the elevator and walked to his desk, surprised to find the rest of his team absent. He checked his watch and frowned; Ziva was still occasionally late, but McGee never was. Tony often though that punctuality was hardwired into the Probie's brain, and to make it into the office before the younger agent was a rare occurrence indeed. He wondered if maybe his team had left without him, but reconsidered. Gibbs would have called him if there had been an early case, if for no other reason than to berate him for being tardy.

The elevator doors opened and a rather harried-looking Ziva emerged, annoyance clear in her expression.

"I am sorry that I am late. There was a major accident on the Beltway and traffic was-."

"A good agent anticipates problems and works around them, Ziva," Tony interrupted with a mocking tone. "You should know by now the traffic in DC is nothing if unpredictable." Ziva huffed.

"I am aware of that, Tony, but today was much worse than usual. It is practically a deadlock."

"Gridlock. Any idea what happened?"

"I believe it was a Metro bus that crashed. I did not hear anything else."

"Yikes. That's going to be a nightmare." Tony glanced at McGee's desk again. "Have you heard from McGee? Maybe he's stuck in traffic."

"No, I have not." Ziva pulled out her cell phone, dialed a number, and put the phone to her ear. A frown crossed her features as she listened. "It says the customer is not available. Why would he have turned off his phone?"

"No idea, but I wouldn't want to be in Probie's shoes when Gibbs finds out he broke rule number three."

"Speaking of…" Tony looked around. "Where is Gibbs?"

"I do not know. Perhaps he is with the Director. He—." She was interrupted by Director Shepard, Gibbs, and Fornell emerging from MTAC. Gibbs headed directly for the elevator, the expression on his face sending a chill down DiNozzo's spine. He turned his attention to Jenny, whose expression inspired a similar sense of foreboding.

"Director, what-?" Jenny stopped and looked down at the bullpen, took a deep breath and addressed the agents below.

"We have a serious situation unfolding, and the FBI has asked for assistance of all federal and local police agencies. This morning at approximately 0617, a bomb was detonated aboard a Metro city bus as it was traveling on the southbound side of the Beltway, resulting in multiple casualties. We are trying to keep as much of a lid on the situation as possible to avoid a public panic, but it is the current belief that this was a terrorist attack.

"Tony, Ziva, you will need to go with Dr. Mallard and Mr. Palmer to help with the recovery of bodies from the scene, and to work with the FBI's investigators in whatever capacity you are needed. We have pledged the resources of NCIS to assist with the identification of the victims. The FBI will be working on the evidence from the bombing."

Tony felt the blood drain from his face. He was aware of what it had been like for the agency during 9/11, and his fear that they would see a repeat of that horror was potentially being justified. He noticed that Gibbs had not emerged from the elevator on their level and returned his attention to the director, who had descended the stairs to the bullpen.

"What about Gibbs? Is he-?"

"Three survivors were pulled from the wreckage and were taken to University Medical Center. Jethro is on his way there."

"Why? Wouldn't he be better at the scene?" Tony expected Jenny's usual sharp retort reserved for whenever someone questioned her judgment, but she did not immediately respond. Finally she met the agent's eyes.

"I sent him because…he needs to be there. One of the people taken to the hospital was Special Agent McGee."

* * *

Please let me know if this sounds interesting enough to continue.


	2. Chapter 1

Thank you to all who have left a review or added the story to their alert list. I apologize for the delay in posting, so to make up for it this chapter is longer than usual. I can only update as quickly as my muse and work schedule allow, but reviews are always appreciated.

* * *

**Title**: Through a Glass, Darkly

**Category**: NCIS (idea crossover with a book); Starts before "Twisted Sister", AU.

**Rating**: T/PG-13 for violence and gore (Gen)

**Disclaimer**: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda

**Summary**: A terrorist attack has long-term effects on Gibbs' team.

**Warnings**: This chapter depicts the immediate aftermath of the attack, both for the NCIS team and the scene itself. It ain't pretty, folks.

**

* * *

Chapter 1**

Palmer gripped the wheel of the medical examiner's truck tightly as he guided the vehicle towards the crash scene. His mind was still reeling from the news they all had received this morning: the wreck, the possibility of terrorist involvement, and the fact that one of the survivors of the attack was one of their own.

"Dr. Mallard?" he asked, glancing at the older man, not sure if he would get a response. Ducky had been silent for the entire trip, the grim expression on his face never relaxing. This had worried Palmer more than anything. He had grown accustomed to Ducky's ability to converse on a wide variety of subjects, even during the most gruesome scenes.

After a few moments, the M.E. responded. "Yes, Mr. Palmer?"

"Do you think…will Agent McGee be OK?" He heard Ducky sigh.

"I'm afraid I don't know, Mr. Palmer. I might be able to make a better judgment once we arrive at the scene."

"Right. Sorry." It was Palmer's first major accident scene and he was extremely nervous, wondering if it would be as bad as he imagined. He decided that a little advice from his mentor might help prepare him for what lay ahead.

"Dr. Mallard? How many mass fatality scenes have you worked?"

"Too many," was the sharp reply, which silenced any further questions on the subject.

After a few minutes, Palmer heard Ducky sigh again.

"My apologies, Mr. Palmer. You are worried about Timothy and are also concerned with what you are about to see. I am not helping in the slightest."

"You're worried about Agent McGee, too, aren't you?"

"I am. Even if his injuries are relatively minor, the psychological impact of one of these events can be devastating. I would hate for young Timothy to experience such a thing so early in his career."

"Post Traumatic Stress Disorder? How…how likely is that to occur?"

"Very likely, I'm afraid, and not just for the victim. Investigators for a scene such as the one we are expecting have also been known to experience PTSD. Especially those who are not as familiar with the horrors they may witness." Ducky turned to stare pointedly at Palmer and he nodded in understanding.

"I…I think I'll be OK, Dr. Mallard. We've seen some pretty gruesome things in this job, and, well, how much worse could it be?"

"Mr. Palmer…" Suddenly the crash site came into view and Jimmy froze, eyes locked on the sight before them. "The road, Mr. Palmer! Watch the road!"

Jimmy tore his gaze away from the scene and guided the truck to a halt.

"Oh my Lord…"

For the first time in his career, Palmer felt sick. He now knew the answer to one of his questions: it really was as bad as he had imagined. With a sinking feeling, he also thought he knew the answer to another…

XXXXX

Jenny sank into one of the chairs scattered by the mass exodus from the bullpen and closed her eyes. She had just finished assigning the rest of the agents to assist the FBI and Homeland security with a city-wide search of all public transportation for more explosive devices, hoping the entire time that it would not be necessary.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar and panicked voice.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God, oh my God…"

"Abby!" Jenny snapped, opening her eyes and turning her attention to the nearly hysterical forensic scientist. "Calm down." She stood and met the woman in the middle of the bullpen, grabbed her arms and guided her to an empty chair. Abby looked up and met the Director's gaze.

"Is it true, Director? The accident? The bomb? Timmy?"

"I'm afraid so, Abby," Jenny replied, which resulted in another series of 'oh my God, oh my God'. "Abigail!" She gave the woman a firm shake to draw her attention. "I need you to stay calm."

"I'm trying, Director, I swear, but-."

"Jethro is on his way to the hospital to check on Special Agent McGee. He will let us know as soon as he hears something. In the meantime _we_ need you. I need to know that you can do this."

Abby was silent for a moment before she met the Director's gaze. "Gibbs is with Tim?"

"Yes. Or at least he will be shortly."

"Gibbs won't let anything happen to Tim," she said softly, almost to herself.

Jenny nodded, amazed at Abby's child-like faith in the senior agent. She just hoped this incident wouldn't break that faith.

"Then everything will be OK." Abby took in a deep breath and a determined look appeared in her eyes. "What do you need me to do?"

Jenny sighed in relief and detailed the duties she expected to woman to perform. When she was finished, she helped Abby to her feet and was surprised to suddenly find herself enveloped in a crushing hug, and just as surprised to find herself returning it. After a few moments, Abby released her, turned and marched back towards her lab, her mind now apparently on the task at hand.

_Everything will be OK. I hope you're right, Abby. I really, really do…_

XXXXX

Gibbs pushed through the throngs of people packed into the emergency room waiting area and made his way to the information desk. A harried-looking young woman was dealing with the constantly ringing phones and did not even look up when he held up his ID for her inspection.

"I'm sorry, sir, you'll just have to wait a minute…" He slammed his fist on the desk and she jumped, finally meeting his gaze. "Now sir—."

"Special Agent Gibbs, NCIS. I'm here about the bus accident this morning-."

"You and everyone else. Sorry, what do you need to know?" Her gaze returned to the phones before he could even answer.

"There were three survivors brought here for treatment. I need-."

"Two."

"What?"

"There were two survivors. The third was DOA."

Gibbs felt a cold stab of dread pierce his heart. "Which one?" he managed to ask.

"I'm sorry, what-?"

"_Which one of them was DOA?"_

"Oh, I uh, I don't think I'm authorized to tell you that." She flinched when she saw his expression and began searching through the folders on her desk. Soon she found the one she needed and opened it.

"Dan Simmons, the bus driver. He died pretty soon after they picked him up from the accident site."

"What about the others?"

"They're both in the OR." She checked another folder. "Allison Kim is with Dr. Sheeley's team. Timothy McGee is with Dr. McEvoy's team." She glanced up at Gibbs. "There's a more private waiting area down the hall, less noisy. I'll tell the doctors as soon as-."

"How bad? McGee, how bad was he hurt?"

"I don't know, sir, I'm sorry."

"_Damn it!"_

"Sir, please, I need to-."

"Fine, but you better damn well come get me as soon as you hear something," he growled and headed down the hall. He found the room without too much trouble and collapsed into one of the hard plastic chairs that lined the walls of the waiting area, then leaned back, rubbed a hand over his face and closed his eyes. The fear he had felt when he had first heard what had happened was starting to resurface. It was followed quickly be disbelief; he couldn't even begin to understand how this could have happened to one of his team. After all the things they faced on the job, how could the simple act of _getting_ to work be so—.

"Excuse me, uh, Agent…Gibbs?" He opened his eyes and saw a young woman with long brown hair standing in front of him, the fear in her eyes a match for what he was trying to hide. With a start he realized she looked familiar.

"Yes, Miss..?"

"McGee. Sarah McGee. The nurse said you were waiting for news on my brother and I should wait with you. She said you could fill me in on what happened. I don't even know what…they said it was an accident, but…I…"

Tim's sister. Now he remembered where he had seen her: McGee had pictures of her on his iPod. Gibbs remembered what he had said about them and felt a twinge of guilt.

"Have a seat, Sarah."

She chose the second closest chair to him and sat down, nervously pulling the ends of her sleeves over her hands. She turned to him and he saw that her face was wet with tears.

"Please, Agent Gibbs. Tell me what happened. Tell me he's going to be OK."

"He…he was on his way to work and the bus he was on crashed. It…may not have been an accident."

"What do you mean?" she asked, wide-eyed. "What caused the crash?"

Gibbs hated to have to tell her, but he guessed that if she was anything like McGee, she would want honesty.

"They think it was a bomb."

Sarah gasped in horror and started to cry harder. Gibbs reached over put an arm around her shoulders, drawing her closer to him and holding her as her whole frame shook with sobs.

"Who…why…why would someone _do _that? _Why?_"

Gibbs could only sit in silence, holding her while she poured out her grief. He didn't have an answer, but he had a goal: he sure as hell was going to find out.

XXXXX

_***several hours later***_

Ziva paused to adjust the focus on her camera and snapped another picture of the mangled wreck of a car that she and DiNozzo were documenting. The occupants of the car had already been removed by Ducky and Palmer and were tucked into body bags, awaiting transportation to one of the local federal morgues. Ziva had managed to force the sight of the mangled bodies from her mind as she concentrated on her work, but even she was not sure how much longer she would be able to keep up the mental isolation of those gruesome images; there had been just too many similar sights that had assaulted her already that day and they still had three more cars to do.

She glanced over at the wrecked bus and quickly turned her attention back to the car in front of her. She had seen enough when they had first arrived to know that she was very glad not to be working on that part of the scene, one that was way too familiar. She had hoped to escape such horrors in this country, but unfortunately they were apparently not to be confined to her homeland.

The bus lay on its side, the entire back end gone, and the top of the bus split open like a gutted fish, spilling bodies onto the asphalt below. A trail of blood and flesh lay behind the vehicle, leading the way to the horrors within. She had caught merely a glimpse, but it had been enough. Most of the victims no longer looked human, but rather a pile of gory rag dolls, torn apart by the force of the explosion and crash. The whole scene looked like some giant demented child had thrown a temper tantrum, flinging its toys with no regard how they might finally break apart, ultimately unfixable.

Forcing down her morbid thoughts once again she turned to DiNozzo, who looked more sickened than she had ever seen him. He had abandoned his sketch and was staring over at the bus.

"How can they…the _smell_, how can they stand it?"

Ziva understood exactly what he meant: the combination of diesel fuel, burned rubber, melted asphalt, blood, and burning flesh was nauseating. She was glad she had built up somewhat of a tolerance to it.

As they watched, one of the other investigators stumbled away from the scene and barely managed to pull of his mask before emptying the contents of his stomach.

"There is your answer, Tony. Quite often, they cannot, unless they are used to it. Here, not as many are."

DiNozzo turned to her, disgust apparent on his face, but he said nothing. _That_ worried her more than anything. After a moment, he turned back towards the bus.

"Do you think Probie..." He grimaced, apparently deciding his answer. "God, he must have been terrified…"

"Yes, which is why we call people who cause scenes like this '_terrorists_.'"

Tony's eyes sparked in anger and his attention fully returned to her. _Good._

"I'm sorry we're not all as stoic as you are, _Officer_ David. Some of us are still human."

He took a few steps away from her and started sketching the car in front of them again.

Ziva let the insult roll off her back. Better for Tony to be furious with her and focused on the task at hand than to be worrying about things over which they currently had no control. She vowed to help him decompress later, but right now they had work to do…

XXXXX

_***later that evening***_

DiNozzo sank into his desk chair, his exhaustion nearly overwhelming. They had been at the scene for nearly twelve hours, leaving only after the last wrecked car had been documented and the evidence gathered. After returning to the Yard, he had showered and changed in the gym locker room, hoping to erase much of the reminders of that day, but the memories were still there, unable to be easily washed away. He had returned to his desk to start the paperwork, dreading the task but well aware of its importance: the people who had done this would not get away with it because of a clerical error, he would make sure of that.

He looked over at Ziva, who was already typing away at her desk, and felt a twinge of guilt. He realized what she had done for him at the scene and regretted what he had said to her, but she had brushed aside the apology he had tried to make. He decided that once this whole mess was over, he would try again to tell her what that had meant to him.

DiNozzo glanced over at Gibbs' desk and frowned. They had not heard from him at all at the scene, but the cell towers had all been jammed with the increase call volume stemming from the rising panic. He had expected a report on McGee when they had returned to the office, but so far they had heard nothing. He was about to ask Ziva if she had heard anything when Director Shepard entered the bullpen, followed by Ducky and Abby, dressed in their outdoor wear.

"Director, have you-?"

"The last report I had from Gibbs was hours ago, and he had not yet heard anything. We are headed over there now."

"Oh, uh, can we…?"

"I think the paperwork will keep for a couple of hours, DiNozzo. Let's go."

He grabbed his coat and followed the trio to the elevator with Ziva close behind. They did not see the uneasy look that passed between the director and the medical examiner as the doors closed.

XXXXX

McGee had the unpleasant feeling that he was neglecting something as he took in his surroundings. It was dark and it felt like he was in deep water, well below the surface, but without the dampness associated with such a location.

_Where…?_

He looked up and noticed that the light was penetrating the darkness far above him, and he instinctively moved towards it.

_What…what am I missing?_

Then he remembered_. _

_Work…Gibbs…the team…I have to get to them…I'm supposed to be with them…_

He continued to rise toward the surface, towards the light. Suddenly it was if he had hit a wall of burning agony. He screamed, but there was no sound. He fought against the pain, finding relief only when he allowed himself to sink towards the depths. He tried to rise again and the pain intensified, worse than anything he had felt in his life. Finally, exhausted and battered, he sank back into the depths, taking comfort in the darkness.

It would be a long time before he would attempt another trip to the surface.

XXXXX

Gibbs looked up when he heard the approaching footsteps and was surprised to see Jenny enter the waiting room, followed by Tony, Ziva, Abby and Ducky. He felt movement against his shoulder and turned to see Sarah sit up and blink sleepily at him. She noticed the newcomers and sat up straighter, apprehension apparent in her expression as she took in their obvious surprise. Jenny recovered first.

"Jethro. Have you heard…?" Her gaze was briefly drawn to the girl at Gibbs' side before she returned her attention to him.

"Nothing yet." He turned to Sarah. "Sarah, this is Jenny Shepard, the Director of NCIS. Director, this is Sarah McGee, Tim's sister." He caught the startled expressions of his team, confirming that he was not the only who had been one surprised by the girl's relation to McGee. Jenny, however, showed no sign.

"Sarah, I am so sorry. We've all been worried about your brother. How are you holding up?" Seeing that the girl's attention was now focused on the older woman, Gibbs slipped away from her and nodded to his team, who followed him out into the now quiet hallway.

When they were out of earshot, DiNozzo was the first to speak.

"What's going on, Boss? We were expecting you to call, and-."

"No cell phone use allowed in the hospital, DiNozzo, and I didn't want to leave Sarah. But I really haven't heard anything since I got here and they told me he was in the OR."

"What about the others? Do you know how bad McGee might be based on-?"

"They didn't make it." The startled cry from Abby pierced the silence of the hallway and Ducky quickly reached for her to quiet her. Gibbs lowered his voice. "The bus driver was DOA. The other passenger only lasted a few hours in the OR." He grimaced at the memory of the girl's parents being led by a doctor to the one of the meeting rooms, and the mother's anguished cries as she passed by the waiting room on the way out. He looked at his team and saw that the color had drained from their faces. "I…I just don't know…"

Visibly shaking, Abby stepped forward and put her arms around Gibbs. He wrapped his arms around her and held her close, but no words of comfort came to him. After several moments of silence, Abby was the first to speak.

"He's going to be OK, Gibbs. He has to…"

The expressions of anguish on the faces of the rest of his team reflected what he was thinking, but couldn't bear to say out loud.

Soon they heard footsteps approaching, and they all turned to see a very weary doctor walking towards them. Sarah and Jenny appeared in the doorway and they all watched as he came to a stop in front of the group.

"McGee?" They all nodded. The doctor surveyed them with a slightly puzzled look. "I need to speak to the family."

"They're all family," said Sarah, before anyone else could respond. "I'm his sister, but they are all family, too."

The doctor seemed to ponder this for a moment and sighed as he glanced towards the meeting room down the hall. "OK…all of you, then, please come with me."

* * *

A/N: Still interesting? Please let me know. On a side note, the next chapter or two will also focus on the aftermath, but the actual plot of the crossover will wander back in soon, I promise.


	3. Chapter 2

Thank you to all who have shown interest in this story. Many apologies for taking so long to update, but my muse is being difficult again (it was a hard chapter to write), I've been sick, and work has been hell.

**

* * *

Title**: Through a Glass, Darkly

**Category**: NCIS (idea crossover with a book)

**Rating**: T/PG-13 (Gen)

Set in early season 4, before "Twisted Sister", AU from there

**Disclaimer**: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda. I'm also not a doctor of medicine, so any mistakes in that part of the story are my own.

**Summary**: A terrorist attack has long-term effects on Gibbs' team.

**Warnings**: Angst heavy, descriptions of injuries, and swearing.

* * *

Chapter 2

Dr. Jason McEvoy led the group to one of the larger conference rooms and studied them as they entered and took seats at the table. This part of the job was never easy, he reflected, even if he was able to give the family good news. They still had to hear what their loved one had gone through and would experience in the future for recovery. Delivering bad news, that their family member had not survived, was terrible, it was true, but such a report also served as closure. The situation in which he found himself now, and the news he would have to deliver was, he had decided on too many occasions, much, much worse.

After looking at the gathered group, and surveying the emotions he saw in their expressions, he drew in a deep breath and began his report on his patient.

"Mr. McGee's injuries are severe and extensive, and he is currently in critical condition and in the intensive care unit." He noted the expressions of relief on the faces of the group upon hearing that their friend was still alive, and steeled himself to deliver the rest of the news.

"He has suffered multiple fractures of his lower extremities, as well as his pelvis, left humerus, radius and ulna, 5th, 6th, and 7th ribs, mandible and zygoma. Many of these fractures required traction with external as well as internal stabilization. He also sustained internal injuries, including lacerations to his spleen and liver, and collapsed left lung. However, his most troubling injury was a severe fracture of the left temporal bone. We were able to stabilize the fracture and to remove the bone fragments, and we put in shunts to relieve the pressure caused by fluid accumulation and swelling to the brain, which should minimize the damage. However, we will not no the full extent of the damage unless he regains consciousness." He glanced at the group, saw their stunned expressions, and felt a twist of guilt when he had to deliver the final bit of bad news.

"Mr. McGee is in a coma. If he makes it through the next 48 hours, his chances of survival will increase significantly. However, it is still not certain that he will ever regain consciousness. We have done all we can for him and, at this point, all we can do is wait. I'm sorry that I cannot give you better news." McEvoy turned to the sobbing girl who had identified herself as McGee's sister, and spoke to her as gently as possible.

"Ms. McGee, I am sorry, but I must ask: does your brother have a living will or some sort of documentation of his wishes regarding this type of situation?"

"N-no," she managed through her tears. "We talked about it…back when he first started at NCIS, but he didn't f-finish the paperwork. He thought he…that he would have more t-time to take c-care of…" She started to cry harder. "He was more w-worried about…me. He _always_ worried more about me…" The red-haired woman seated next to the girl tried to comfort her but she looked woefully out of her depth. The bespectacled man seated on the other side of the girl tried to comfort her as well.

McEvoy turned to the rest of the group. "Do any of you-?"

"NO!" cried the goth-looking woman in the middle of the group as tears spilled down her cheeks. "You're wrong! Tim can't be…no…" The silver-haired man next to her pulled her close and she turned her attention to him. "Gibbs, please, you can't let them…we can't lose him, we _can't_!"

Gibbs did not respond to her question but instead turned his attention to the doctor. McEvoy felt a surge of unease as cold blue eyes focused on him.

"What are his chances, doctor? Give me a number."

McEvoy sighed. He hated these types of questions, even though he understood the need to ask them.

"Of survival, I would say less than twenty percent; of regaining consciousness, less than five. I'm sorry…"

"No. Probie is tough. He'll beat those odds," said the youngest man in the group, almost to himself.

"May we see him?" asked the dark-haired woman sitting on the other side of Gibbs.

"Ma'am-."

"Ziva."

"Ziva, I must tell you, considering how…Tim looks right now, it will be very upsetting to all of you to see him. This…this is not how you will want to remember him, trust me."

"I believe we can handle it. He needs to know that _we_ have not given up hope," she declared as she sent the doctor a glare that made him want to take a few steps back.

"He won't even know that you're there…but if you insist." The entire group nodded. "Very well. No more than two at a time, and only for a couple of minutes. Follow me."

* * *

Gibbs leaned against the wall outside the ICU as they all waited for the doctor to allow them entrance. The sinking dread he had felt all day had been replaced by anger at what had happened. Ducky had given him an update on the attack and the victims: forty-nine bodies had been removed from the scene, not including the two survivors who had died later; twelve people from the cars who had been taken to the hospital with a range of injuries, five of which were still hospitalized. And then there was McGee…

Gibbs barely resisted the urge to punch something. After all of that waiting, all of the worry, he had been hoping for better results. Now the doctors were telling him he would probably lose his agent after all, and it infuriated him. McGee did not deserve this… _No one_ deserved this, and all because some unknown group wanted to make a statement. It made Gibbs' blood boil, but he couldn't let it show. He had to lead his team, and they would catch the bastards who had done it, come hell or high water.

The doctor finally emerged from the ICU and went directly to Sarah, who was still clinging to Jenny's arm. Gibbs saw Abby step forward, only to be restrained by Ziva, who whispered something in her ear. He watched Abby deflate slightly and nod to Sarah, who disappeared into the ICU accompanied by Jenny. A few moments later Sarah emerged and staggered to the wall before falling against it, her sobs shaking her entire body. Gibbs rushed over and caught her before she hit the floor.

"That's not…that can't be…my big brother…he…_Oh God."_

"Sarah…"

"No! Leave me alone!" She struggled briefly before breaking free and rushing down the hall away from what she had seen.

Gibbs turned around in time to see Jenny emerge from ICU with a stricken look on her face.

"Jen?"

She simply shook her head. "I'll take Sarah home, Jethro. This has been too much for her. I'm sorry…" She turned and headed down the hall after Sarah.

"Perhaps I should go in now, so I may properly prepare the rest of you." Without waiting for a response, Ducky disappeared into the room as the rest of the team gathered together outside.

"Boss?" DiNozzo looked more worried than Gibbs had ever seen him.

"Yeah?"

"Do you…I mean, will he…?"

"I don't know, DiNozzo. Let's see what Ducky has to say."

The group waited, and soon they heard footsteps approach from the opposite direction. Gibbs turned to see Fornell making his way towards them.

"Tobias. What are you doing here?"

"Giving you an update, and hoping for one in return." Gibbs led Fornell away from the group as he motioned for the rest to stay in place.

"How is your agent, Gibbs?"

"Not good." Gibbs couldn't bring himself to say anything else, and Fornell seemed to understand. "What about you?"

"We have a lead. Since one of yours was affected, I was able to convince my boss to let you in on the interrogation, as long as you behave yourself."

"Not damn likely. Who was it? Who did this?"

Fornell sighed. "All I can tell you is that it wasn't international. It appears to be a homegrown group. We have a witness to their plans, but it's a Navy dependent and he won't talk to us."

"A _kid?_"

"Yup. Seventeen. His parents have already given permission for him to be questioned." Fornell obviously noticed Gibbs' state of mind. "We can wait until after you check on your agent, but not much longer. He's at NCIS. We figured that was safer for everyone."

"Understood. I'll be there." He turned as walked back to the group just as Ducky emerged. "How is he, Duck?"

"Jethro, I…I am afraid, at this point, I agree with Dr. McEvoy. Although Timothy _may_ beat the odds, his condition is very grave. I am sorry."

"We still need to see him, Ducky. Please."

"Very well, Abigail, but make your visit brief." She and Ziva entered the room as Ducky turned back to Gibbs.

"I must be getting back. Mr. Palmer should have completed the preparations back in autopsy, and we must get those poor people identified. I…know this will be a terrible loss, Jethro, and I am so sorry."

"We haven't lost him yet, Ducky," broke in DiNozzo with forced optimism. "Isn't that right, Boss?"

Gibbs didn't even bother to respond as Abby and Ziva walked back out into the hall. Ziva had her emotions under control, barely, but Abby was quite obviously upset. She immediately went to Gibbs and without a word put her arms around him. Her silence bothered him more than anything.

Finally, she spoke. "I'm not giving up on him, Gibbs. I don't care what that doctor says. We're going to get him back." She released Gibbs and wiped her eyes. "Someone should stay here with him."

"I will stay." They all turned to stare at Ziva, surprised by her statement. "You need to rest, Abby, and then you are needed at the lab."

Abby gave Ziva a hug and returned her attention to Gibbs. "You need to tell him he can't leave us, Gibbs. Tell him he's not allowed. Okay?"

"I'll do what I can, Abbs." He watched her leave and turned to DiNozzo.

"You ready for this?" Tony just nodded and followed Gibbs into the ICU to see McGee.

When they reached McGee's bed, Gibbs steeled himself and looked down at his junior agent. What he saw caused his stomach to clench. The machines and IVs had been expected, but seeing them attached to the young man was no less upsetting. What was even more upsetting was the rest of what he was seeing. Very little of McGee's body was not bandaged, stitched, or surrounded by stabilization casts where metal rods pierced his flesh. What little skin was visible was either ghastly pale or badly bruised. His face was partially obscured by the ventilator, and his head and the left side of his face were heavily bandaged. His one visible eye was closed, and the dark ring around it stood out starkly against the pale grey hues of his face. If Gibbs had not known this was McGee, he would have had a hard time recognizing the formerly healthy young man who now lay, battered and broken on the bed in front of him.

Gibbs glanced at DiNozzo and saw that the other agent was as white as a sheet and looked as if he was desperately trying not to be sick.

"Tony? You Okay?"

The senior agent let out a strangled, humorless laugh.

"I'm pretty freaking far from OK, Boss." He took a deep breath to steady himself. "I don't…how is he even still alive? I've seen corpses on Ducky's table that looked better." Gibbs tried to glare at him, but the usual strength was gone.

"I don't know, Tony."

"I guess the important thing is that he stays that way. Tell him, boss. Tell him he's not allowed to die."

"I…I don't know if I can." For the first time, Gibbs was ready to admit defeat.

"You promised Abby, Gibbs."

"I know…" Finally, he leaned forward, getting as close to McGee as he dared. "Tim…listen. You…you do your best, son. You hear me? Just…do your best."

* * *

Gibbs entered the observation room with DiNozzo at his heels. He had tried to get the younger man to go home but Tony had refused, intent on finding out who had hurt his Probie. They were soon joined by Fornell and another agent DiNozzo had never met, and all four men turned to stare at the occupant in Interrogation.

The young man seated on the other side of the glass looked terrified, but Tony had no sympathy for him. This kid had apparently known what was going to happen and had said nothing. It took all of Tony's self control to not barge into the room and demand answers.

After a few moments of silence, Gibbs left Observation and soon walked through the door to Interrogation. The kid's attention immediately turned to him, and DiNozzo could hear the panic in his voice as he addressed the Lead Agent.

"Listen, mister—."

"Special Agent Gibbs."

"Agent Gibbs, I-."

"Tell me what you know."

"I just…I didn't mean…I don't want to get in trouble-."

Gibbs slammed his fist on the table and leaned into the kid's personal space as the kid leaned back as far as he could to get away from the man.

"You're already in trouble. How much depends on what you can tell us RIGHT NOW."

"I heard them talking about it. About planting a bomb on a bus. I thought it was just talk, I never expected-."

"Who?"

"These guys at school: Pat, Chris, and Benny."

"Their full names, and where we can find them."

"Uh, Patrick Naughton, Christopher Barnes, and Benjamin Carter. They all live on base at Little Creek. We go to the same high school." DiNozzo noticed one of the FBI agents slip out of the observation room. It looked like they would be getting more company soon.

"What did they say?"

"They said…there was another guy, he's in college, I think, and he was planning the bomb as a protest or something. Pat, Chris, and Benny were scouting out the bus yards to find a target, and this other guy was building the bomb. It wasn't supposed to be that bad, they said, just a bit of noise and smoke. I swear. I didn't even think they'd actually do it."

"What makes you think they _did_ do it?"

"Because…because they talked about it today at school. They were worried that they were going to get in trouble. They had no idea it would be that bad, but when we all heard the news…well, they were freaking out."

"And how did you hear them 'freaking out'?"

"I was hiding out in the bathroom when they came in. I recognized their voices and I looked out and saw them. They never saw me, though."

"Who was the one who built the bomb? I need a name!"

"I don't know! They never said his name, I swear. Now please, Agent Gibbs, can I go home now?"

"No." Gibbs turned and left the room as the kid collapsed into sobs.

"Boss?" DiNozzo asked when Gibbs returned to the observation room. "Was all this really just a bunch of screwed-up kids?"

"I guess we're going to find out."

An hour later, the three high schoolers were in interrogation, and they couldn't wait to spill their guts to Gibbs and Fornell. The bomb-maker, a senior at Waverly named Alex Price, was apprehended as he tried to get on a flight to Tucson, AZ, from where he was apparently planning on making an escape to Mexico. Once in interrogation, he began spouting off about oppressive government and the need for anarchy and freedom. Tony listened to his rants with disgust as he recognized the source, and felt a surge of anger at the unfairness of it all. After they dragged Price, still ranting, off to a secure cell, Gibbs returned to Observation to meet with Fornell as Tony listened. Fornell was livid.

"I can't believe it, Gibbs. All of this destruction and death caused by a bunch of kids with fucked-up ideas about oppression and 'justice'."

"And who obviously watched _V for Vendetta_ a few too many times," added Tony.

Fornell sent him a glare that rivaled Gibbs'. "You think this is funny?"

"No, I don't. I'm glad that we caught them, and I'm just glad it's over."

"Not for everyone," muttered Gibbs. "Not for everyone."

* * *

Two days later, the group responsible for the attack was arraigned. The three teenagers immediately asked for a plea bargain in exchange for their evidence against Price, and received life sentences with possibility of parole. Price demanded a trial, and eventually was convicted of 51 counts of first-degree murder. He was found dead in his cell the morning before sentencing, and his death was ruled a suicide.

Two weeks after the attack, a memorial service was held for all of the victims, and was attended by everyone who had worked on the case. As the names we read during the ceremony, Gibbs reflected that there was one name that was not on the list that really should have been. Timothy McGee had beaten the odds and made it through those critical first 48 hours, but remained in a coma, completely unresponsive.

McGee's family had rallied around him, hoping and praying that he would somehow regain consciousness despite the predictions of his doctor. His parents stayed in town for the first few weeks, but eventually had to return home, saddened and frustrated that there was nothing they could do for their son. Sarah decided to take a leave of absence from school to stay with her brother, but eventually she caved to the urging of her parents to come home. Before she left, she managed to get the lease broken on his apartment and all of his belongings packed away, waiting for they day when he would need them again.

His team mates were with him as much as possible those first few weeks, but eventually the demands of the job kept all but one away. Abby set aside two hours out of her day to be with Tim, reading to him or just talking about her day, hoping the connection would eventually bring him back. Her vigil did not go unnoticed, and she received unspoken support from both Gibbs and Ducky. They knew it could not hurt, and it was helpful to hear her reports on McGee, even though neither was certain her efforts would ever pay off. All they could do was wait and hope while she counted out the days since they had spoken to their friend.

* * *

So, what do you think of this so far? Reviews are always appreciated.

As for Gibbs not expressly forbidding McGee to die, it will be a plot point later. It is not meant as a slam against Gibbs.

No slam against _V for Vendetta_, either. I have just seen how some people have misunderstood the ideas in the movie and thought it fit the situation.

As I mentioned before, the plot will wander back in by the end of the next chapter.


	4. Chapter 3

**Title**: Through a Glass, Darkly

**Category**: NCIS (crossover with a book)

**Rating**: T/PG-13 (Gen)

This chapter starts during "Bury Your Dead" (which, by my calculations, is about 6 ½ months after the bus crash) and covers several months after.

**Disclaimer**: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda. I'm also not a doctor of medicine, so any mistakes in that aspect of the story are my own.

**Summary**: A terrorist attack has long-term effects on Gibbs' team.

**Warnings**: Angst heavy, swearing, and minor character deaths mentioned before the plot wanders back in at the end.

* * *

**Chapter 3**

Tony slowly made his way down the hall of the Mercy Crest Medical Facility to room 237. He paused when he reached the door to prepare himself before he opened it and stepped inside, a false smile plastered across his face.

"Hey, Probie!" he said, trying to keep his voice as cheerful as possible. "Yeah, I know, long time no see. How have you been?"

The silent figure on the bed did not acknowledge his presence. Then again, Tony really hadn't expected him to do so. Undeterred, he continued.

"You're looking much better than the last time I saw you, no more exoskeleton."

The traction apparatus and external fixators had been removed as Tim's shattered bones had healed. The only reminders of their presence were the scars, mercifully hidden beneath the blankets that covered him. Reluctantly, Tony allowed himself to study his former partner more closely to see what else had changed.

"We really need to get you to a barber, McGee. I don't think this new look works for you."

Tim's hair, having grown back after the surgeons shaved his head to repair the trauma, lay flat against his head. It was a shade darker than it had been before the accident, except for the white streak at his left temple, a reminder of the injury he had suffered.

"Looks like you've lost weight, too. I guess they call that the Coma Diet, huh?"

Finally Tony's bravado broke as he stared at Tim's gaunt features. He collapsed into the chair next to Tim's bed and sighed.

"Damn it, Tim, why haven't you woken up? It's been over six months. C'mon, man. You've got to come back. It's really not the same without you…I mean, still look over at your desk and expect you to be there…" Tony shook his head at the memory. "There's another guy, a TAD, sitting there now, but he's…he's not you. We need you to be there. I mean, who else would put up with all my crap? And Abby…she comes to visit you every day. That dedication should be worth something, right?"

Tim remained silent, as unresponsive as he had been the last time Tony had been to see him.

"I know I haven't been around much. I…this assignment I've been on, it's taken up all my time, and…I know I should have tried to stop in, but it was just…it's hard seeing you like this. Selfish, I know but I…I couldn't deal with it. And after today…I lost so much: a woman that I really cared about, the respect of the Director, the trust of my team, especially Gibbs, and…I don't even know why I came here tonight. I guess I needed to see someone who has lost more…man, what kind of a bastard does that make me?"

Tony slumped in his chair and briefly closed his eyes before continuing.

"You know, I've lost way too many partners. I probably never told you about my very first partner when I became a cop: Rick Montagne. He was…he was a lot like I was with you. Always called me 'Rookie', made me do the grunt work, played pranks…you know the superglue thing? He did that to me, more than once. It got so I hated the smell of acetone, but…I guess I just had to carry on the tradition. But even with all that, I knew he had my back. When I…when I did what I told you I did the first time I shot someone, he covered for me so no one would know. He talked to me about it afterwards, like I tried to do with you after you shot that undercover cop. That talk made me realize he really was looking out for me. It felt good, knowing someone cared. I tried to do that for you, I really did, but I don't think I succeeded. I just wasn't as good at it as Rick. He…God, I still miss him. We were partners for two years, and one night, he was off duty, and he walked right into a convenience store hold-up. The perp was high on meth, crazy, and he shot Rick as he opened the door. He never had a chance.

I transferred to another department soon after that. I wanted a fresh start, no reminders. And then, when I was a detective in Baltimore, I lost another partner: Pat Murphy. He was from a long line of cops, didn't think much of the college educated rich kid he got stuck with, but we became really good friends. He had all sorts of nicknames for me, and it drove me crazy, but he never meant anything bad when he used them. He…it was really just his way of showing he gave a damn about me.

We were on a stakeout to get evidence against one of the minor crime bosses, and I guessed someone tipped him off, but they found our hideout. I was out getting dinner when they broke in and shot him. I…I'll never forget what I saw when I opened the door to the apartment we had been using. Pat…he was still alive, barely. He told me who had shot him, and I made sure the guy got put away for good. After that I joined NCIS, and…well, you pretty much know the rest. We lost Kate and…then there was the bus crash, and then…well, I guess you wouldn't know this, but we just lost Paula, too. Another terrorist attack. I…I'm just sick of it, Probie, but I figure if I give up then the bad guys have won. And you know what? If you don't make it, if you don't wake up, they'll have won again. You don't want that, do you McGee?" Tony returned his attention to the silent figure on the bed, waiting for some response, but there was none.

"Maybe you just need to be reminded of that. I know I haven't been here, I've been a lousy friend, and I sort of abandoned you, but I'm here now. I'll be here, every day if I can, to remind you. You need to come back, Tim. Are we clear?" Still no response, but Tony felt something loosen in his chest and he realized that he had needed this talk just as much as he believed Tim had.

"Maybe if I talk enough, you'll wake up just to tell me to shut up. OK, so, here's me talking. I gotta tell you about this movie I saw just last week…"

Tony continued to talk until the events of the past two days caught up with him and he eventually succumbed to the pull of sleep. When Abby arrived for her nightly visit, she couldn't help but smile at the scene that greeted her: Tony was fast asleep in the chair she usually used, his head pillowed on his arms which were folded on the bed next to Tim. After a quick word to the night nurse, she left Tony as he was. She knew the both of them needed to be together more than she did.

The next morning, Tony awoke, stiff and sore from the awkward position he had been in all night. He blinked the sleep from his eyes and checked on Tim.

"McGee? Tim? You with me?" There was no response.

Tony leaned back in his chair with a sigh of disappointment.

"Well, I guess this isn't like the movies. You're not going to just wake up because I poured my heart out to you. I can wait, but don't make me wait too long, OK, Probie?" Tony placed his hand on Tim's forehead, over the scar that reminded him how badly Tim had been injured. "You take care, buddy. I'll be back. I promise."

He checked his watch and sighed. He had barely enough time to make it back to his apartment to change before heading in to the office. It would be another long day…

* * *

_***three months later***_

Gibbs noticed the sudden silence that had fallen over the bullpen and looked up from his paperwork to see what had caused it. A man, dressed in a Naval Officer's uniform, was standing in front of his desk. With a sinking feeling, he realized who it was, and what the man's presence might mean.

"Captain McGee? What-?"

"I need to speak with you, Agent Gibbs. In private."

Gibbs glanced at his team and saw concern on Tony's and Ziva's faces. They, too, knew the potential significance of McGee's father's presence. Gibbs returned his attention to the man in front of him. "Follow me, Captain." He headed towards one of the conference rooms. Once they were both inside, he shut the door and turned to the other man. "What happened? Is Tim-?"

"There has been no change in his condition," replied Captain McGee. "But this does concern him."

Gibbs could see that the man was barely controlling his emotions and decided to let him take the lead in the conversation.

"Have a seat, Captain." Gibbs settled into his own chair and waited for the other man to explain.

"Jonathan. 'Captain' is only when I'm at sea." He placed the folder he had been carrying on the table and opened it before sliding it across to Gibbs. "I need you to sign these."

"What is this?" asked Gibbs, squinting at the fine print.

"I need you to take over as Tim's legal guardian and medical proxy. I've been called back for a six-month long tour of duty, one which I really can't refuse. I need someone to be here to make the necessary decisions when…if his condition changes."

"What about his mother and sister? Wouldn't they-?"

Jonathan's composure faltered for a brief moment before he regained control. "Lillian and Sarah…they were killed in an automobile accident three weeks ago. It…it was a hit and run driver, probably drunk. They haven't found him yet."

"Jonathan, I -."

"I should have informed you sooner, but I…it was too much. My family is gone, Agent Gibbs. I have nothing left."

"You still have your son, Jonathan."

"My son…I haven't spoken to my son in almost ten months. The doctors tell me that he may never wake up. I can't…I can't hold on to a false hope that he will ever be my son, the man I knew, again. I have a job to do and…I just need someone to handle the arrangements if Tim…passes on while I'm away. He trusted you, and that trust is good enough for me. I believe I can rely on you to do the right thing, Agent Gibbs. Please, sign the papers. I have money set aside for his funeral. He was accepted into a medical study which has offset much of his expenses, and the rest have been taken care of."

"I don't give a damn about money. I'm more concerned what this will do to Tim, _when_ he wakes up. Imagine how will he feel if he thinks you've abandoned him?"

"I will cross that bridge when we come to it, but I don't think it will happen. The doctors say-."

"Doctors have been wrong before, Jonathan."

"Yes, they have. But I can't cling to that idea. It's too dangerous."

"Dangerous for whom?"

"For anyone who relies on me. I can't do my job with this…hanging over me. I need to keep my head in the game. It is better that I just accept the facts, Agent Gibbs. I've already mourned him. My son was gone a long time ago. My wife, she…she never believed it, but now she's gone, too, and I…I just can't do it anymore. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, especially not to me."

Jonathan let out a humorless chuckle. "Yes, I know, it's a sign of weakness. I know what you must think of me, but it is for the best, for all concerned. Now, will you please sign the papers? If you can't do it for me, do it for your former team member."

Gibbs stared at the other man for several moments before pulling a pen from his pocket and quickly scrawling his signature on both forms.

"Thank you. I am…I wish there was another way. I didn't want to burden you with this, but I don't think I could trust anyone else with my son." Jonathan rose from his chair and held out his hand. Gibbs just looked at him and made no move to accept it. Jonathan sighed. "I will get these filed and have the copies sent to you as soon as possible. Good day, Agent Gibbs…and good-bye." He left Gibbs sitting at the table and shut the door behind him.

Gibbs ran a rough hand over his face as he thought about the responsibility that had been thrust upon him. After several minutes, he rose and went to rejoin his team.

* * *

Ziva pushed open the door to room 237 and stopped when she saw that Tim was not alone. While she had not been as frequent a visitor to this room as other members of the team, she still had made an effort to see him, and this was the first time she had encountered another visitor. What truly surprised her was the presence of this particular person, especially after Gibbs had informed the team what had taken place in the conference room earlier that day.

"Captain McGee?" she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral. She had been extremely angry with the man when she heard Gibbs' version of the encounter.

The man looked up and met her gaze. "Ziva, right? Please, come in. I'm guessing you're a bit surprised to see me here."

"I am," she replied, her tone far from friendly.

"Your boss told you what happened."

"Yes, he did, but I must confess that I do not understand."

"I didn't expect you to."

Ziva stepped closer to lay a hand on Tim's arm. He didn't appear to register her touch.

"Then please explain. You truly do not believe he will ever wake up? You believe he is gone?"

Jonathan McGee sighed. "Did you know that I used to talk to my son every day? If I was reachable by phone, one of us would call, or if not, he would write me a letter. Every single day since the time he could talk or write. When he was in that car accident, and he was unconscious for a day, I thought that was the worst day of my life, and it was, until the day of the bombing. I haven't spoken to him since the day before that day. I…I miss my son, Ziva. I wish I could believe that one day he'll get better, he'll be able to talk to me again, but…I guess I just don't have it in me. I've listened what the doctors have said, I've read everything I could about traumatic head injuries and coma patients, and I just…I guess I don't believe in miracles. Lillian, Tim's mother, she'd probably try to smack some sense into me if she was here, but she's not. Now I can just hope that the rest of my family is together, and maybe someday I'll see them again."

"I do not believe in miracles, either, Captain McGee. But I _do_ believe in your son. I have seen him do what we did not think was possible, and I expect him to do so again. These same doctors said he would not survive, and he has. How can you put so much faith in _them_?"

"I don't know…"

"Neither do I. But I _do_ know this: when you son wakes up, you will not tell him that you thought he was beyond hope. You will not tell him you abandoned him. He deserves better."

"If he does wake up, then I promise." He glanced at Tim. "He's lucky, you know, lucky to have people like you willing to believe in him. And you're right, he does deserve better." He stood and placed on hand on his son's forehead.

"Goodbye, Tim. I hope I'll see you again, someday." He withdrew his hand and looked up at Ziva. "Thank you for being his friend." He gave her a half-smile before turning and walking out the door.

Ziva walked over to the recently abandoned chair and sank into it, fighting the tears that threatened to fall. She knew, had he been awake, that Tim would have been mortified at how she had spoken to his father, but she had been unable to help herself. She did realize that she was projecting her own issues on the man and the situation and felt ashamed. She was supposed to be there to support her friend.

Finally, after managing to calm her nerves, she did what she had done for each of her visits to her fallen teammate. She started to pray.

* * *

"…_For ZNN news, this is Marie Jarvis. Tomorrow marks the one-year anniversary of the Metro City Bus bombing which claimed the lives of 51 people—."_

Tony hit the mute button on the bullpen plasma and turned back to his paperwork with a sigh. He really didn't need a reminder of that event. He got that every time he went to visit the lone survivor of the bus crash who still remained in a coma, despite the efforts of his team. Tony often wondered if there was something different he could have done, but he knew in the end it was really up to the doctors and ultimately Tim himself. It was just so frustrating…

Speaking of frustrating, he finally managed to fully return his attention to their present case, or cases, to be precise. Four separate murders, all of young female Marines. The women were all between 20 and 22 years of age, of relatively small build, and blonde. Other than that, the MCRT had been unable to find any connection between them. They were all from different units, originally from different areas of the country, and had not been at boot camp at the same time. As Tony searched through yet another set of records, he thought, bitterly, that McGee would have made the whole thing so much easier. The current TAD, Kevin Powers, was decent at the computer stuff, but he was no match for the younger agent's skills.

There was, of course, another reason why Tony wished McGee was back at his desk: he could not stand the new TAD. Agent Powers was arrogant, but had enough sense to hide that aspect of his personality around Gibbs and the director. He barely spoke to the rest of his team, never socialized, and had never attempted to ingratiate himself with any of the other people with whom he interacted on a daily basis. Not even _Ducky_ liked him. The Director had tried to get Gibbs to select a permanent member for the team, and so far he had managed to ignore her requests, but Tony was afraid that Gibbs would eventually be worn down and they would be stuck with Powers for good.

Tony scanned his report and realized that he needed a piece of information from Abby. He reached for his phone and dialed the lab. It went directly to voice mail, so he left a message and hung up.

"I wonder where she is?" he mumbled to himself.

"Where she _always_ is this time of night," said Powers. "Visiting her favorite lost cause."

Tony was out of his seat before he even realized it and had taken a step towards the other agent when he was brought up short by Gibbs' voice.

"_DiNozzo!"_

Tony stopped and clenched his hands into fists. "Yeah, Boss?" Gibbs rounded the corner or the row of cubicles and stopped in front of Tony.

"Is that report done?"

"Almost. I just need something from Abby." He ignored the slight smirk that crossed Powers' face.

Gibbs turned to the other agent. "Powers, is _your_ report done?"

"Just finished it, Gibbs." Gibbs gathered a stack of folders from his own desk and dropped them on Powers' desk. "Good, then you can review these cold cases before you leave for the night. Unless, of course, you think they might be a lost cause."

Tony barely managed to hide a grin as the smirk was wiped off Powers' face.

"Yes, I mean, no, Gibbs. I'll get right on it." He shot Tony a glare before turning his attention to the files.

"DiNozzo."

"Yeah, Boss?"

"My office, now." Reluctantly, Tony followed Gibbs to the elevator. Once they were inside and the door had closed, Gibbs flipped the emergency stop switch and turned to Tony.

"Why do you let him get to you?"

"I know, I know, I just-."

"He's not worth it, DiNozzo. Now, finish up your report as much as you can and go _home_."

"Boss, I-."

"_Home_, Tony. You can skip one night visiting Tim."

"I…I guess you're right, Boss. Not like he's going anywhere, is it?" Gibbs gave him a light headsmack. "Sorry, Boss."

"I'll cover for you tonight, Tony. Go home and get some real sleep. I need you ready to do a full review of those murder cases tomorrow. We're missing something."

"Yeah, like physical evidence, that this guy _never_ leaves behind." He flinched, expecting another headsmack, but it never came. "Do you think we'll ever catch a break on this case?"

"We'll catch him. They always screw up sooner or later." Gibbs flipped the emergency switch and the elevator doors opened. Both men went to their desks to grab their things and stepped back into the elevator.

As soon as they left, Powers hit the mute volume on the TV and returned to his work.

"…_this just in: the Maryland State Correctional facility has alerted local law enforcement of a prison break earlier today. One inmate managed to escape. The prisoner, Brian Sheridan, was serving a life sentence for the 2001 slaying of a Baltimore detective…"_

* * *

As Gibbs slipped into Tim's room, he heard Abby's voice, clear yet soft, as she read to the younger man.

"_The room in which I found myself was very large and lofty. The windows were long, narrow and pointed, and at so vast a distance from the black oaken floor as to be altogether inaccessible from within."_ Abby paused, apparently sensing Gibbs' presence and turned to him. He face was paler than normal, and he could see that she had been crying.

"Hey, Gibbs," she said with a slight sniff. He lifted up the book she held to read the title.

"'_The Complete Works of Edgar Allen Poe_'? Not very cheerful stuff there, Abbs."

"It was the first thing I grabbed on the way out the door this morning. Timmy…he gave me this book a couple of years ago for my birthday. He said this story was his favorite, so I thought I'd read it to him."

"I'm sure he appreciates it."

"Does he? I don't…does he even realize we're here, Gibbs? I mean…why hasn't he woken up? Is it me? Is he mad at me? I was kind of mean to him, you know, just a few days before he…is this my fault, Gibbs?"

He pulled her into a one-armed hug. "I'm sure it's not, Abby." He released her and walked around to the other side of the bed to look down at Tim.

"But what can we do, Gibbs? It's been a year. Do you know how rare it is for people to stay in a coma for that long?"

"Yeah, I have an idea, Abbs."

"Maybe there's something else. Maybe he doesn't know how much we want him back. He needs to know we're here for him, right? He needs…contact." She leaned over the bed and grabbed Gibbs' wrist, forcing him to wrap his hand around Tim's. "There. Now he'll really know you're here." She wrapped her own fingers around Tim's other hand and sat back down in the chair so she could lay her head on Tim's chest. "We're here, Tim…please…"

Gibbs sighed. He hated to see Abby like this. She had put so much into coaxing McGee back to the waking world, and he was afraid what would happen if he never made it. Gibbs put his other hand on Tim's forehead, over the streak of white hair at his temple. He almost wished he had Abby's confidence in the young man's ability to make it back.

Suddenly he felt a slight pressure on the fingers that were wrapped around Tim's hand. He stared at the hand as he remembered some of the things had read. Sometimes coma patients responded to pressure stimulus. This was probably all this was…

Gibbs returned his attention to Tim's face and was startled to see that Tim's eyes were open and staring back at him.

"Tim?" he asked, almost unwilling to believe what he was seeing.

"B-boss?" Tim's voice was so soft he barely heard it, but it was enough to cause Abby to sit up and look at Tim's face.

"Timmy?"

His eyes tracked towards her voice and he gazed at her a moment before responding.

"Ab..by?"

"Oh my God! Timmy! You're awake!"

Gibbs couldn't help the grin of relief that spread across his face as he watched Abby's response. _Finally…_

He looked back at Tim and saw that he was not looking at either of them, but straight ahead. Suddenly, Tim's eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"Tony?"

Gibbs and Abby both turned, expecting to see DiNozzo standing behind them, but no one was there. Gibbs managed to hide the sudden sense of worry he felt and turned back to Tim.

"It's OK, Tim, he'll be here. We all will be here." Tim didn't seem to hear him as he continued to look straight ahead. The elation Gibbs had felt started to disappear as he realized that Tim might not be all the way back after all.

Suddenly Tim's eyes widened in horror. "No…"

"What Tim? What is it?"

"Timmy? What's wrong?"

Tim looked at Gibbs, fear and worry apparent in his expression. "Boss…you have to…save him."

"Save who?"

"Tony…someone is going…to kill him."

* * *

A/N: So...have you guessed the crossover? ;)

The story Abby was reading was _The Fall of the House of Usher_. No infrigement intended

Please let me know what you think.


	5. Chapter 4

**Title**: Through a Glass, Darkly

**Category**: NCIS (crossover, sorta )

**Rating**: T/PG-13 (Gen)

**Disclaimer**: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda. I'm also not a doctor of medicine, so any mistakes in that aspect of the story are my own.

**Summary**: A terrorist attack has long-term effects on Gibbs' team.

**Warnings**: Swearing and some disturbing imagery.

* * *

Chapter 4

Tim McGee had been floating in the darkness for a long time.

Sometimes voices filtered down through, and he was tempted to move towards the surface, towards the voices, but the memory of the agony that waited kept him from making that journey at first. Gradually, as time wore on, he had moved closer to the surface and had tested the barrier but he had been unable to break through, even though the pain had lessened. He grew more aware of the voices as well, some of which sounded familiar, but he had been unable to put a face to most of them. The one he heard most frequently, sometimes saying things he remembered from the time before the darkness, he was almost sure he knew who it was, but the actual name eluded him. As for the rest, he knew they were there, but not much more.

Then, after such a long period of near isolation, he strongly felt the presence of two people. One, whose voice he recognized as the frequent visitor, seemed to be talking to the other person rather than to him. He was trying to focus on the words when suddenly he felt something starting to pull him upwards, out of the darkness. He tried to resist, fearful of what might happen, but he only rose faster. After a short but terrifying journey, he broke through the barrier. The sensation of floating was gone, and surprisingly there was no pain, but he could feel everything: the bed beneath him, pressure on his forehead, something heavy resting on his chest, and two hands, each gripping his own. He tried to pull away, but only succeeded in moving the fingers of his left hand. He warily opened his eyes and winced at the bright light and blurry images. As his vision cleared, he saw a pair of familiar blue eyes staring down at him.

"Tim?"

_Wait, that's…_ At last he found his voice. "B-boss?" _What…I can barely talk…why? And why is Gibbs looking at me like that?_

"Timmy?"

_I know that voice…_He slowly moved his eyes toward the source, saw another familiar face, and was finally able to give the voice a name.

"Ab..by?" _What's wrong with me? Why do you look so upset?_

"Oh my God! Timmy! You're awake!"

_Awake? I've been asleep? No, that's not right. What happened?_ Before he could ask anything, however, the darkness returned for a brief moment and then he found himself staring at yet another familiar face, only this time he had no idea how he came to be almost face to face with…

"Tony?"

He knew he had spoken the name aloud, he had heard it, but Tony never even looked up. He started to walk away and Tim followed, even though he had no idea how.

"_It's OK, Tim, he'll be here. We all will be here."_

He barely registered the statement as he followed Tony through a door and then he was out on the street. Tim glanced around (but he didn't actually feel the movement) and saw that they had just emerged from a pub.

He looked back to where Tony had been and saw that the scene had changed again. He was inside a darkened apartment that he somehow knew was Tony's, even though he had never actually been there. Tim turned towards the door (or where he guessed the door should be) and he saw a man with a knife.

"No…"

"_What Tim? What is it?"_

"_Timmy? What's wrong?"_

The man stood to one side of the door, the knife gripped tightly in his hand, obviously expecting the owner of the apartment to open it soon. Another brief flash and he saw Tony lying in a pool of blood, his eyes open and unseeing, and Tim knew that when Tony _did_ open that door, it would be for the last time.

Suddenly the scene shifted again and he was back in his bed, looking up at Gibbs. Tim fought the weakness of his own voice and struggled to reveal what he knew.

"Boss…you have to…save him."

"Save who?"

"Tony…someone is going…to kill him."

Gibbs' eyes widened in surprise and he looked away from Tim for a brief moment before meeting Tim's own frightened gaze.

"Who, Tim?"

Tim tried to answer, but it was like there was a blank spot, a part missing. He concentrated and suddenly a name popped into his mind.

"S-sheridan. Brian Sheridan." He could feel himself slipping back into the darkness, but he fought it. This was too important. "Please, Boss. He's at Tony's…place. Waiting with a…a knife. I _saw_ him. I don't…know how…but I did. Please…"

"OK, Tim, OK." Anything else Gibbs would have said was interrupted by the arrival of one of the nurses.

"What's going on?" She took one look at Tim and instantly moved to his side as Gibbs let go of his hand and stepped back. "Sir? Mr. McGee? Can you hear me?" He barely managed a nod, still reeling from the sudden loss of contact. The nurse turned to Abby. "Go to the nurse's station and have them call his doctor." When Abby made no move to leave, the nurse grabbed her shoulder and gave her a brief shake. "Now!" Abby turned and disappeared from Tim's line of sight while the nurse started to check his vitals. She looked up, apparently to say something to Gibbs and Tim saw that his boss was gone. He closed his eyes, still fighting the darkness, but also fighting the panic that was rising within him.

_What's happening to me?_

XXX

Gibbs left Tim's room and immediately tried to call Tony. Even though in his head he knew it was impossible, his gut was telling him to believe Tim's…whatever it had been. He waited for Tony to pick up but it eventually went to voice mail. He tried again and an unfamiliar voice answered.

"_Uh, hello?"_

"Who is this?"

"_Matt. I'm the bartender at O'Reilly's Pub."_

"What the Hell are you doing with DiNozzo's phone?" Gibbs asked as he started to walk towards the exit, ignoring the dirty looks he was getting from several of the nurses.

"_Oh, so that's whose this is. I just found it on the floor when it started ringing. I guess he dropped it."_

"Do you know how long ago he left?"

"_Uh, maybe five minutes? Not too long. Is something wrong? Do you want me to send someone out to try and catch him? What do you want me to do?"_

"Hang on to that phone, and if he comes back for it, tell him _not_ to go home."

"_OK. Can I ask-?"_

Gibbs snapped his phone shut and headed for the stairs.

"Gibbs!" He turned to Abby as she rushed towards him.

"Abby, stay here. Stay with Tim."

"But Gibbs-!"

"No, Abbs. I'll handle this. One of us needs to stay with Tim. Got it?" He reached the door to the stairwell, opened it, and ran.

XXX

Abby watched Gibbs disappear through the door and fought the urge to run after him. He had given her an order; she had to stay with-.

"Timmy…"

She turned and ran back to his room where one of the nurses blocked her way.

"I'm sorry, but you'll have to wait until the doctor checks Mr. McGee over and clears him for visitors."

"But he needs me! He's scared, and he knows me. I can help."

"I'm sorry, but the patient is very fragile right now. I cannot allow you to upset him any further, and in the state _you're_ in, that's what will happen. Let us take care of him. I'll let you know as soon as okay for Mr. McGee to have company."

"His name is Tim."

"Fine. As soon as _Tim_ is more stable, I'll come get you. Now go."

Abby considered trying to get past the nurse but finally decided to listen and slowly walked back to the visitor waiting area as she tried to figure out what to do. She couldn't help Tim, she couldn't help Gibbs or Tony, so she did the only thing she could.

She called for backup.

XXX

Tony reached the front door of his apartment building and fumbled for his keys. He hadn't had very much to drink at all, but his reflexes had slowed enough to be annoying. After finally finding the correct key, he was about to insert it into the lock when someone grabbed his shoulder. He spun around and came face to face with Gibbs.

"Boss, what-?" He winced as he received a hard smack to the back of the head. "What was that for?"

"You lost your phone."

"I did?" He reached into his pocket and came up empty. "Damn it. What-?"

"Does the name Brian Sheridan mean anything to you?"

Tony froze as he felt the anger surface. He knew the name. It was one he had never hoped to hear again.

"He killed my partner in Baltimore. Before I came to NCIS, my last case was putting him away for good. Why?"

"I heard it on the news on the way over: he escaped earlier today."

"Crap. You think-?"

"I _think_ he's waiting for you in your apartment. What do you say we go check and make sure?"

Tony grimly unholstered his weapon and nodded. "Let's go."

They rode the elevator up to Tony's floor and silently moved towards his apartment. Tony inserted his key in the lock, turned it, and pushed the door open as he and Gibbs stepped to either side of the doorway. They raised their guns and stepped back to cover the apartment from the hallway. Tony smothered a gasp when he saw who was standing in his apartment holding a large knife. All three men froze before the silence was broken by Gibbs.

"Drop your weapon, Sheridan. It's over."

The man stared at him for a moment before responding.

"Son of a bitch," he growled. "How in the hell?"

"Drop it."

Sheridan complied, raised his hands over his head and glared at DiNozzo. "Guess you got lucky again, cop."

"It's Special Agent DiNozzo now, dirtbag, and _you_ didn't. You're going back to jail."

"It would have been worth it if I'd succeeded in killing you."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Tony pulled out a pair of cuffs. "Turn around, and don't try anything stupid. I know it's hard, but try."

"Still a comedian," Sheridan snarked as he turned around and put his hands behind his back.

"Damn straight." Tony snapped the cuffs around Sheridan's wrists and then led him to the kitchen. "Have a seat." He pushed him into one of the chairs and stood back. "So, you broke out and the first thing you do is go after a federal agent. Nope, not smart at all."

"It was as good a plan as any."

"Except the part where you told someone else," said Gibbs, breaking the silence he had maintained since he had spoken to Sheridan at the front door.

"I didn't. I'm not that stupid."

"Could have fooled me," snapped Tony, but Gibbs' raised a hand to silence him and he stopped.

"You sure you didn't mention it to someone? And old cell mate? Someone who works, or who has a friend who works at Mercy Crest Medical Facility?"

_Mercy Crest? That's where…Tim? Oh crap…_ Tony barely heard what Sheridan said next.

"I already told you, I didn't tell anyone. I've never even heard of the place. You mind telling me how _you_ knew I was going to be here?"

Gibbs didn't answer, but Tony could see something else was bothering him. Before he could start in on Sheridan again, Gibbs turned to him.

"Check and see if he did anything else, and I'll call Metro. They can deal with this bastard."

Tony stared at Gibbs. _He's turning a case over to Metro without a fight? Something must __**really**__ be wrong. _With a sinking feeling, Tony realized what it had to be, and he barely managed to keep himself from attacking Sheridan. _What the Hell did you do to my Probie, you bastard?_

"Tony, go check. Now."

"On it, Boss," he said reluctantly and went to survey his apartment. Nothing seemed to be broken or missing and he returned to the room where Sheridan and Gibbs waited. "Nothing else, Boss."

"Good. Metro will be here soon." Gibbs lapsed into silence and simply stared at the bound man.

Tony paced. He wanted to ask Gibbs about McGee, but he didn't want to do it in front of Sheridan. The man didn't need any more ammo to use against him.

Fifteen minutes later, Metro police arrived, followed by one of their detectives and a detective from the Maryland state police. After the usual formalities and exchanges of information, they led Sheridan out of the apartment, promising that a full report of his transfer back to the prison would be forthcoming.

As soon as they were alone, Tony turned to Gibbs.

"Boss, what happened? How did you know he'd be here? You told Metro you heard about Sheridan on the news and put two and two together, but you told me you heard about it on the way over. You already knew he'd be here." Gibbs remained silent, apparently waiting for Tony to figure it out on his own. "You mentioned the medical facility where…did he…did Sheridan, or one of his buddies, did they do something to Tim? Is he…?"

"He's awake."

Tony stared at Gibbs. That was honestly the last thing he had expected to hear.

"He's _what_?"

"Awake…and he just saved your life."

XXX

Ziva arrived at the medical facility and immediately went to the second floor, flashing her badge at the first nurse who protested her presence. When she reached the waiting area closest to McGee's room, she was suddenly engulfed in an Abby-hug.

"Ziva, I'm so glad you're here. No one is telling me anything and I-."

"Abby, what exactly happened? You said that McGee woke up. What happened after that?"

"He…I don't know, Ziva, it was really weird. I mean, at first it was okay. He recognized Gibbs, and me, he said our names, but then he…he said some stuff about Tony that didn't make any sense. I mean, how could he know?"

"Know what?"

"He said someone was waiting at Tony's apartment, to…to kill him."

"Abby…we do not know of how much McGee was aware while he was in the coma. Maybe…maybe he mixed up some things he heard and that made him think that Tony was in trouble."

"No, Ziva! The name he gave us, I heard it on the news while I was out here, but they didn't mention Tony, and there's no way Tim could have heard it in his room, it was too far away."

"Perhaps one of the nurses-."

"No, I asked. They said they never mentioned it. Besides, he said he _saw_ the guy waiting in Tony's apartment, and that he had a knife. How could he see that?"

"I do not know. Maybe the doctor will be able to tell us something."

"The doctor…he got here about ten minutes ago. They won't let me in to see Tim until the doctor says it's OK, and he hasn't yet. You don't think that Timmy went back into his coma, do you?"

"Abby-." She was cut off when Abby jumped up and ran towards the new arrivals. Tony barely managed to stay upright as Abby nearly tackle-hugged him.

"Tony! You're OK!"

He returned the hug and gave Ziva a weak smile over Abby's shoulder. It was evident that he was worried. "Yeah, Abbs, I'm fine." He tried to calm the near-hysterical woman as one of the nurses approached with an annoyed look on her face.

"I'm sorry, but if you can't be quiet, I'm going to have to ask you to leave."

Suddenly Abby turned on her. "Try it! I'm-."

"Abby…"

"But Gibbs-."

"That's not going to help. You need to stay calm. And quiet." He stared at the nurse and she retreated, shaking her head in apparent disgust. He led Abby to her seat and he sat down next to her with an arm around her shoulders. Abby seemed to be listening as Ziva turned and walked away, motioning for Tony to follow. When they were a few yards away, she turned to him.

"Tony, what is going on?"

"I wish I knew, Ziva."

Her next question was interrupted by the emergence of the doctor from McGee's room. He looked at the gathered group.

"You are all here for Mr. McGee? Which of you is his medical proxy?"

"I am, but whatever you need to say, you can say it to them as well," replied Gibbs.

"Very well. Mr. McGee's scores are high enough to indicate that he is no longer in danger of returning to his comatose state. However, it will be several days before he is fully awake and aware. We have checked his cognitive functions and while there are some memory losses, we found no major signs of damage. We'll have to wait for more comprehensive tests to confirm, but as of now I believe that, in time, and with a great deal of physical therapy and counseling, he should make a near-complete recovery." He shook his head. "I have to admit, I never thought I would say that, and I've never been happier to have been proven wrong."

"May we see him?" asked Abby before anyone else had a chance to respond.

"Right now it would be better to allow him to rest. I understand that he was quite agitated when he awoke, and that has taxed what little stamina he has. He is still awake, though. He kept mentioning that he is worried about someone named Tony…that's you?" he asked as he looked in Tony's direction. The senior agent nodded mutely. "I do believe that if he could talk to you, it would be beneficial to his state of mind, but too many more visitors could be detrimental."

"You said he has some memory loss. What sort of things has he forgotten?" asked Gibbs.

"He doesn't remember the accident. He also doesn't realize how long he has been in a coma. At this point, it would be unwise to tell him about either of these things. Let him heal a little, first, and deal with the trauma later."

"Does he know about his family?" asked Ziva.

"No. Again, that's something that he will need to deal with in the future, but not right now. He's still fragile and we don't want to subject him to any more stress than necessary."

"It's going to be more stressful if he learns about it later," said Tony. "Can I go see him now? I promise I won't say anything I shouldn't." He glanced at the rest of the team and they nodded, even Abby.

"Yes, but don't stay to long."

XXX

Tony walked towards Tim's room and went over everything Gibbs had told him on the way over. He had no idea how Probie had known about Sheridan, and it didn't look like he was going to find out any time soon. He was pretty sure _that_ conversation would be considered 'too stressful'.

Tony stepped into Tim's room and when he saw that Tim's eyes were closed he felt a surge of fear that, despite what the doctor had said, they had lost him again. He took a moment to study the younger man and what he saw disheartened him: Tim looked even more pale than usual, and the dark circles under his eyes indicated how stressful his awakening had been. A memory of the first of his regular visits flashed through his mind and he winced. He never wanted to go through any of that again, but now his time spent seemed to have paid off. _Tim's finally back_, he reminded himself, _even if he looks pretty bad right now._

Tony moved closer to the bed and was startled to see Tim's eyes snap open. His gaze soon focused on Tony and the look of absolute relief that crossed his face told Tony that he remembered at least _something_ of what he had told Gibbs.

"Tony…you're…really OK?"

"Yeah, Probie, I'm fine. You, on the other hand, look like crap…gave us quite a scare, too," he managed to admit.

"Sorry…must have been…bad."

Tony remembered what the doctor had said and didn't answer, but Tim didn't seem to notice. "How are you feeling?"

"Tired…confused…it doesn't hurt, though…why doesn't it hurt?"

"You'll be OK, Tim. That's what matters." He reached out and put his hand over Tim's wrist. "Now get some rest. You're going to need it when…when you have to go back to work." He realized how that sounded, but he couldn't think of anything else to say that wasn't taboo at the moment.

"OK. Thanks, Tony…and…I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"For…what happened…with Jeanne. That must…have been rough."

Tony just stared at the younger man for a few moments before plastering on a fake grin.

"Yeah, but it's OK. Now get some rest, Probie. See you tomorrow."

"See…you…"

When Tony could see that Tim was finally asleep, he quietly turned to leave, worry twisting his thoughts as he remembered one very troubling thing.

In all of his monologues at Tim's bedside, he had _never_ mentioned Jeanne Benoit by name.


	6. Chapter 5

**Title**: Through a Glass, Darkly

**Category**: NCIS (crossover with _The Dead Zone_)

**Rating**: T/PG-13 (Gen)

**Disclaimer**: Don't own, just playing, yadda yadda. I'm also not a doctor of medicine, so any mistakes in that aspect of the story are my own.

**Summary**: A terrorist attack has long-term effects on Gibbs' team.

**Warnings**: Swearing and some disturbing imagery. Also, this was started before the episode _Baltimore_ aired, so it's very AU at this point.

Short chapter, but it's been awhile. _Mea culpa._

* * *

Chapter 5

They had gathered in Gibbs' basement, a place that had previously been a source of sanctuary and comfort for them, but such feelings were now diminished. They should have been celebrating their teammates return to consciousness, but the circumstances surrounding that awakening had dampened their spirits. Each member of the team was going over in their heads what had happened, trying to find a rational explanation, but so far none had found one that fit all the facts.

The sound of the front door, followed by a familiar voice, pulled them from their thoughts.

"Jethro? What is this about? You said it was urgent." Soon the source of the voice appeared at the top of the stairs and he paused when he caught sight of the gathering. A worried look crossed his face before addressing the group.

"What has happened? Is it…?" Ducky searched their expressions for some clue as to their thoughts.

"McGee woke up," said Gibbs without preamble. Ducky's eyebrows shot up in surprise.

"When?"

"Earlier this evening. Abby and I were with him. He's not in danger of going back into a coma, but…something's not right."

"Jethro, you cannot expect the lad to be even remotely normal after such an experience. He will need time to regain even the barest of function."

"It's not that, Ducky," said Abby. "The doctor explained all of that, but…it's something else, something hinky."

"Well, what happened?"

"When McGee woke up, he told us something, and there was no way he could have known it." She glanced at Gibbs and Tony, who both nodded silently. "He told us someone was going to kill Tony, in his apartment. He knew the guy had a knife. He even knew his name."

"Did someone…?"

"Yeah," replied Tony. "A guy named Brian Sheridan. He was in prison because of me, but he escaped and was waiting for me in my apartment when I got home. If Tim hadn't told Gibbs…and if Gibbs hadn't been there, I'd be dead."

"I remember hearing that name on the news. Perhaps Timothy-?"

"No. There was no way he heard it, Ducky. Tony never mentioned the guy's name before tonight, the nurses didn't talk about it, and there was no way he could have heard the TV."

Ducky sighed. "Abigail, there must have been some way. Even with all of our studies, there is still so much that is unknown about coma patients and of what they are aware. He may have absorbed information from various conversations and synthesized it into something that made sense to you."

"Sounds like a coincidence, Duck. You know what I think about those."

"Nevertheless, it is highly likely that this is an isolated occurrence."

"I don't think so," said Tony, and they all turned to look at him.

"What do you mean?" asked Gibbs.

"First, I have a question: did any of you ever mention my undercover assignment to McGee or anyone in the hospital?" They all shook their heads. Tony sighed. "He knew Jeanne's name. He told he was sorry for what happened. How the hell did he know that?"

"Perhaps, unconsciously—"

"No, Ducky. I know I didn't tell him. One of the few things I _am_ sure of right now."

"What were you doing when he said that?" asked Abby.

"I was…I went in to talk to him, to tell him I was OK. He asked me why he wasn't hurting, and I…I put my hand on his wrist and told him it would be OK."

Abby's eyes widened as comprehension struck. "You touched him. Gibbs and I were touching him when he woke up, and when he told us about you…and about Sheridan."

"So how…?" He turned to Ducky, who wore an uncharacteristic expression of confusion. "Have you heard of anything like this, Ducky?"

"Not that I can recall, but I shall be checking the literature as soon as I am able." He surveyed the group. "In the mean time, I suggest we put this worry aside, for Timothy's sake. He will have enough difficulties adjusting to what has happened to him. Has anyone told him about his family?"

"Not yet. The doctors didn't think it was a good idea to tell him just yet."

"What about the accident?"

"He doesn't remember it, and he doesn't know how long he has been out."

"Oh dear…"

"It does not matter." Ziva rose from her seat as she spoke for the first time since they had descended to Gibbs' basement. "Whatever he needs, we will help him get through it, yes?" After a brief silence, they all voiced their agreement. "He is still a part of our team, and the important thing is making sure he knows that. He has lost so much, he does not need to lose that as well."

"You are quite right, Ziva. However, you must all remember that the process will not be quick. Timothy will need time to build up his strength and stamina, and it is likely he will need to re-learn some basic things as well. We cannot rush him in this, no matter how much we want him back with us in full capacity."

"Understood, Duck."

"At least the worst is over, right? He's awake, and he can talk and think. That's better much better than we had for so long," said Abby, her normal exuberance slowly returning.

"Yeah, it is," muttered Tony, who still looked worried. "I'll just feel better when I see him up and about."

"We all will," said Gibbs. "But until then, we'll do what's necessary…for McGee." They all nodded. "Now go home. I'll see you all at work tomorrow."

The team left, all except Ducky. After they both heard the front door shut, Gibbs turned to his friend.

"What's on your mind, Duck?"

"Honestly Jethro, I'm still in a bit of shock. I never—"

"-expected him to wake up."

"No, I didn't. I must confess, I agreed completely with the expectations of Timothy's doctors. I am truly happy that they, and I, were wrong, but…I have never been one to take much in the so-called 'gut instinct', but at this moment, if I were to do so, mine is telling me that Timothy's troubles are just beginning." He glanced out the small basement window and sighed. "I must get home as well. I've never been fond of driving in this sort of weather."

"Be careful."

"Oh, I intend to. Good night, Jethro."

"Later, Duck."

The older man left and Gibbs turned to stare silently out the window, watching the rain come down as his thoughts turned to the job ahead.

XXX

Several miles away, in the rain-swept darkness of the city, a killer waited.

From the shadows he surveyed his target with hungry, predatory eyes. The excitement he felt was barely contained as he watched her perform her normal routine, one he had watched so many times before in preparation for tonight. She was one of many, some of which the authorities were not even aware.

He smiled in the darkness as he prepared to make his move. He had confidence in his abilities, particularly those which allowed him to evade detection.

_They'll never catch me. Never. I'm too…slick._

XXX

Captain Jonathan McGee slowly made his way to his quarters, exhausted after 36 straight hours on duty. He had kept up a pace few had believed possible, considering his age, but they didn't understand that he _had_ to work. It was the only way he could keep his mind off of what he had done, what he had left behind.

When he reached his room, he closed the door, sat down on the bed, and rubbed his eyes. He wanted to sleep, but he knew it wouldn't come easily. The guilt he was able to repress while in the waking world troubled his dreams, and he was not eager to visit that landscape of horrible images: the mangled bodies of his wife and daughter that he had barely been able to identify, his son in a hospital bed, unresponsive and surrounded by machines, and the look of disappointment he could imagine on Lillian's face when he had chosen to hand responsibility of his son over to another.

A knock on the door pulled him from his thoughts and he stood.

"Enter."

The door opened and a young Petty Officer stood just outside in the corridor.

"Captain McGee, sir, you have received a call from an Agent Gibbs at NCIS. He wishes to speak with you immediately."

Jonathan felt a twist in the pit of his stomach, followed by a deep feeling of loss.

_So it finally happened…Godspeed, son. I'm sorry…_

"Sir?"

"Yes, Petty Office Dowry. Please send Agent Gibbs a reply telling him I understand his message, and I trust him to handle everything."

"Yes, sir."

The younger man left and Jonathan returned to his bunk. He sat down and sighed. He knew he should be there, to say good bye to Tim for one last time, but he had known the requirements when he had signed up for this mission. At least now the last barrier that had kept him from taking on a _new_ mission had slipped away. He would speak to the Commander the next day.

_If this goes as officially planned, I can retire in peace. If not, well, maybe I'll get to see my family again._

His thoughts were soon interrupted by another knock on the door.

"Enter," he said, his tone a bit harsher than the last time. The door opened and he sighed. "Yes, Petty Officer Dowry, what is it this time."

"Sir, Agent Gibbs insists on speaking with you. He says it is very important. He would not tell me what it is about. He was very insistent, though." The petty office looked distinctly cowed.

Jonathan almost laughed. The man could even intimidate someone over the phone.

"Very well." He followed the younger man back to the bridge where he picked up one of the SATCOMM phones and dialed the number he had been given.

"_Gibbs."_

"Agent Gibbs, this is Jonathan McGee. It was my understanding that you were willing to handle the arrangements."

"_Won't need to, Jonathan. Tim woke up."_

All feeling left Jonathan's body for a brief moment as he froze in shock. Finally he was able to respond.

"What?"

"_He's awake. He can talk, and he remembers us. The doctors say he's going to be OK. It's going to take time, but he will recover."_

"W-when did he…?"

"_Last night."_

"I…this is unexpected." He heard a soft chuckle.

"_Yeah, I know. When will you be coming back?"_

"Agent Gibbs…I…"

"_I know you have over three months left on your mission. With all due respect, sir, Tim needs you now."_

"I'll see what I can do."

"_I'll be expecting your call."_

"Agent Gibbs?"

"_Yes, sir?"_

"Thank you…for being there. For Tim."

"_Not a problem, sir. He's worth it."_

"Yes…yes, he is. Signing off."

"_Aye."_

He disconnected the call and turned to the officer behind him.

"I will need to speak with the Commander, at his earliest convenience."

"Yes, sir."

Jonathan left the bridge, unmindful of the curious looks he was receiving from the crew members he passed on the way back to his quarters. He managed to make it back inside his room and shut the door before sinking onto his bunk. He stared straight in front of him for several minutes, going over the conversation again and again in his mind. Finally, he placed his elbows on his knees and lowered his face into his hands.

And wept.

TBC…


End file.
